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^BGRAPS.^ 



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SG;:Rj\F>S. 



By D. . ASE. 



Dedicated to my sister Ella, who, in chidhood days, was my playmate and constant 
companion, and who, since those happy times, has been a constant participant of all my 
joys and sorrows as well as a true friend and devoted sister. 




BOSTON : 

]). E. PEASE, PUBLISHED 

148 SHAWMUT AVENUE. 



f=>l- 



~K 



?*.4 



It may seem upon first thought that honesty's only reward is hope; but rather, it is 
manhood's prime factor, whicn gives to him exerciseing it, a consciousness of having 
done right. 



PREFACE. 



IN launching this little volume upon the waters of a reading 
world, T have but little to say. 

When writing the several pieees herein contained, I had no 
thought of ever submitting them to the public eye; but, by the 
request of several of my friends, and especially that of my 
sister, and as I am myself a printer, thus finding no difficulty 
in obtaining a publisher for my "Scraps," I venture to place 
them before the public. 

Some of them are selections from my school-boy essays, rirst 
written on a slate, in the "old red school-house on the hill," 
and others since those golden days, and all within youth's early 
spring time. 

Poets are said to be born, not made. This is true in a great 
measure. But all men have implanted in their being an ability 
for special good uses; some being adapted to one use and some 
to another. Men, like the oak and the pine, have within them 
the material for the building of master vessels; but they will 
still be oaks and pines, and never the keels and masts of mighty 
vessels, if the builder never cuts, and never moulds, and never 
arranges them in their proper place. I believe every man has 
the ability and power to fill an important place in the world's 
mechanism. Like the oak and the pine, in their proper places, 
one is as important and as useful as the other. Although the 
old adage may be true, this is also true that, men and poets 
are made as well as born. 

While I claim for my " offsprings" no superiority nor hardly 
mediocrity, and consequently no pre-eminence for myself as a 
writer, I venture to send them forth with a sincere desire that 
they may be received, not only with pleasure by my friends, 
but with profit to all who may chance to read them. 

D. E. PEASE. 



COPYRIGHTED. 



Motbi 



Fatigued and somewhat lonely, 

I laid me down to rest 
Upon ray couch at noon time, 

With thoughts of home impressed. 

My mind had wandered eastward. 

Swiftly as thoughts can run; 
.My eyelids, like the Sphinx's, 

Were towards the rising sun. 

1 thought of my dear mother. 

Whose love is strong and deep. 
And weary fancy traversed 

The border-land of sleep. 

I know I slept not wholly, 

Nor was I yet awake; 
But mother's arms were round me, 

It seemed 'twas no mistake. 

Turning upon my pillow, 

I saw her pure face beam ; 
On mine her dear lips quivered ; 

She kissed me in my dream. 

A tender tumult stirred me 

To rise for mother's sake; 
But waking proved my vision 

Was all a sad mistake. 

My heart was all atremble 

With home-sick thoughts oppressed. 
Oh ! how I longed to clasp her— 
My mother — to my breast. 

I thought if all should leave me 
Save him who reigns above, 

I ne'er should he forsaken 
By mother's tender love. 



'Twas as I lay aweary ; 

How vivid it does seem! 
My mother bent above hip, 

And kissed me in my drean 



Side by bic 



Side by side, there stood my sisters, 
On the platform of the station, 
As the western train 'gan moving, 
Every precious minute proving, 
Weary miles of separation, 
• Days and months of long duration 
Would lie 'twixt me and my dear sisters. 

Motionless they stood like marble, 
Seeming not to give attention 
To the train so fast receeding, 
As each moment faster speeding 
Filled their thoughts with apprehension, 
Feeling sad beyond retention, 
Stood my sisters still as marble. 

On the rear car from the platform, 
While not yet far in the distance, 
Waved I then my hand in token 
That our love would be unbroken, 
That we might have true existance, 
As they faded in the distance, 
Prayed I, standing on the platform. 

So intently were they thinking, 
That they heeded not, nor saw me, 
Never saw my hand up-waving, 
While an answer I was craving ; 
Yet I knew their fondness foj me 
Surely had the power to draw me 
Towards them standiug there a thinking. 



In my memory, my sisters. 
Side by side upon the landing, 
Filled with thoughts of deep emotion 
Affection strong with deep devotion, 
In the depot still are standing, 
Each her own fears understanding, 
Side by side still stand my sisters. 

still I'm thinking of my sisters. 

Thinking, should I here not meet them. 
Nothing would he there whatever. 
tfaught that could our lives dissever, 
Thinking that if God would keep them. 
On the other shore I'd greet them, 
Standing side by side my sisters. 



Q'tllFQ opmKS, 



I sat one night in dreamy flight, 

Down by the frigid sea ; 
1 heard the wail of the wintery gale. 

In sad solemnity. 

Me-thought I heard a mystic word 

Come from the mighty main ; 
And upward rise to meet the skies, 

And echo back again. 

And so might not this word, I thought. 

Be heard in heathen lands, 
And far beyond the early morn. 

E'en to dark Afric's strands. 

Indeed, thought I, God is close by 

In earth, in air, in sea ; 
And through all these He speaks with ease 

To all humanity. 



fribate t© Garfield. 



( an it be that he has fallen, 
He who was the people's pride, 

Who had reached the highest station 
That a nation could provide? 

Can it be that he has fallen, 
No more here to rule the land, 

Taken in his noble manhood, 
Stricken by a muderous hand? 

Can it be that President Garfield, 
Whom all nations of the globe 

Loved and honored for his greatness, 
Now lies wrapped in funeral robe? 

Can it be that President Garfield, 
He who was so strong and brave. 

Will, before the shades 'of evening, 
Sleep his first night in the grave? 

Fair Columbia is weeping, 
She again is called to mourn, 

For another martyred president 
To his grave to-day is borne. 

Step thou softly in the presence 

Of the nation's hero dead, 
Lest you might disturb his slumbers. 
Lying in his narrow bed. 

Over every state and nation 
Pests a cloud of darksome pall ; 

But the God who reigneth ever, 
Reigneth over clouds and all. 

But the clouds so quickly gathered, 
Soon will pass from sight away, 

And the sunshine then will follow. 
Changing darkness into day. 



rlbo'V'Q its Clouds, 



It \\;is raining in the valley, 

Clouds and fog were all about; 
1 was traveling up the mountain, 

But I took my course with doubt. 

Traveling up the mountain slowly, 
Trying hard to keep my way. 

But the mists were dense about me, 
Seeming night instead of day. 

Higher still I climbed the mountain, 
Carefully, lest I slip and fall ; 

Would I ever see the summit? 
Would I reach the top at all? 

Yes, the mists began to scatter; 

I could just begin to see 
Outlines of my goal, the summit, 

Not far distant could it be. 

1 could see the welcome sunlight 
Throwing rays among the mist ; 

J could see the wished for summit 
Just a little way from this. 

Soon I stood upon the summit, 
Free from clouds, and mists, and rain 

And the sight that met my vision 
I may never see again. 

1 was high above the storm-cloud<. 

In the raylets of the sun ; 
Down below me in the valley, 

Still the storm was raging on. 

And it seemed that I could almost 
Walk out on the clouds below. 

For they looked so hard and firm-like, 
Like a field of trodden snow. 



Here and there the clouds were parted, 
Letting rays of sunlight through, 

Lighting up the scattered houses, 
And the town that lay below. 

Then I thought, how much the grander 
To be above the clouds and storms, 

Than to be beneath the shadows 
Of the dense and misty forms. 

Then I thought, if I could ever 
Keep within God's sunlit rays, 

Far above the mists and storm-clouds, 
Where the nights are bright as days, 

I would ne'er descend the mountain, 

Go into the mists again ; 
But Ld keep upon the summit, 

High above the clouds and rain. 



He, 



What 'tis to be, and being, what 'tis to have 
The entity of such a thing as self, 
A floating mote upon the sea of life, 
Tossed back and forth through all the varied scenes 
Of Time's unceasing and relentless sway, 
Seems little understood by him who stays, 
And merely stays to fill the space of time 
Which the Almighty One has granted him. 
To be a helpless babe of worthless dust, 
On which is breathed God's animating breath 
To give it power to act and do its will, 
To weep, and weeping, weep itself to sleep, 
Again to wake, and then again to weep. 
Can this be life? 



A laughing boy, regardless of the cares 

And raging storms of still more solemn years, 

So soon to snil upon the tide of fate 
Where Poverty and Disgrace are wont to be, 
And dire Disappointment and Remorse 
Contract the weary soul almost to naught, 
Which make men tremble and grow pale with fear, 
Wishing sometimes the breath of life mighl cease, 
So weak has grown their strength in battling Fate 
That they in hopeless faith do reel ingrate. 
Can this be life? 

The beardless youth just starting forth in life, 
Or maiden fair with brightest hopes ahead, 
A fame or fortune in the world to seek 
By competition with more artful men 
Than they themselves who've never tried their skill. 
Or matched their strength against the strength of men 
And then, perhaps, to feel Love's sharpened darts 
To pierce the flesh, the mortal part of man. 
And craze the mind, which feels the mortal blow, 
Until at last the youth and maiden wed, 
And take upon themselves life's greatest task. 
Which is to mould the lives of those who are 
In future years to be their guiding star. 
Can this be life? 

The man of middle age who now can look 
With equal glance ahead and on the past, 
Whose summer's past, and now the falling leaves 
Of his unfruitful, or his fruitful years, 
Presage the coming storms and wintery blasts. 
And now afloat within the very midst 
Of life's forever restless ebb and flow, 
With cares enough to sink the stoutest ship, 
Unless it buffets them with all its might ; 
And then, perhaps, for lack of skill and pluck, 
Some sink beneath the wave to rise no more. 
He now has wealth, if ever wealth is'gained ; 
He's loved and honored, if he's loved at all ; 
He's learned to battle, or he's learned to fall. 
Can this be life? 



A helpless man, no more to do with life's 
Eventful seas, except to hoard the hoat 
That Charon rows, and leave the shore 
To go to that unknown where all must go, 
When this immortal body leaves the mortal part. 
To moulder and decay and turn to dust, 
Again the same as when it issued forth. 
A hero now if ever one at all ; 
Life's battle fought if ever fought at all ; 
All trials gone, his foes beneath his feet 
Except the last which is the monster Death. 
Unlike the babe, he's lived what's called a life : 
But like the babe who's little more than dust, 
In every thing but age he is a child. 
A helpless man or babe of worthless dust, 
With just a breath from God to give it life ; 
And now since he has lived a helpless babe, 
A man, and then a helpless babe again, 
And known what 'tis to live in each degree, 
He little understands what 'tis to be. 
And this is life. 



I love but few, I love them well, 
And when I hate, I hate for aye , 

What quiet passions in me dwell, 
The wisest sages cannot say. 



The bird that sings to-day its song, 
The great tall oak that seems so strong; 
The tender plant with fragrance sweet, 
The welcomed tread of accustomed feet, 
The stormy winds and zephyrs mild, 
The gray haired man, the prattling child, 
The summer's sun, the bright to-day, 
Are quickly, swiftly passing away.* 



W®H KQOiigl? 



"'lis well enough to go to school, 

'Tis well enough to mind this rule. 
That if we would true knowledge gain, 

The links must come before the chain. 

Tis well enough to read and spell, 

On problems difficult to dwell ; 
The rules of grammar, too, are good, 

If they are "learned and understood. 

"Tis well enough with care to write, 
'Tis well enough to keep in sight 

The hurrying pace of clock and sun, 
That we may rind each task well done. 

'Tis well enough to knit and sew, 
'Tis w-ell enough to reap and mow. 

That we ma}' earn our livelihood 
Just as the Father ment we should. 

'Tis well enough to boil and bake, 
The secrets learn of pie and cake, 

An honest living to pursue. 
In doing what we have to do. 

"Tis well to brighten up each room 
By constant use of brush and broom : 

For when a house is clean and neat, 
'Tis well enough for queenly feet. 

'Tis well enough to work at trades, 
'Tis well enough that there are grades 

Of men of every class and clan 
To give a place for every man. 

'Tis well enough to live and learn, 
'Tis well enough to die in turn; 

'Tis well enough in peace to dwell 
When we have said our last farewell. 



Mgt?t, 



When Twilight with her silvery hair, 

Her curtain draws in dim array, 
Bedecked with stars of twinkling light, 

A token of departing day, 
Fair Nature from her busy cares 

Seems fain to haste in dreamy flight, 
And spreads her mantle far and wide 

To usher in the stately Night. 

The plowman then with tired limbs, 

The damp of sweat upon his brow, 
Comes from the field with sluggish tread, 

Too dark for him to hold the plow ; 
Exhausted quite by needful toil, 

He yields himself to slumber deep 
To dream of things he does not know, 

But only sees them in his sleep. 

The man of active mind as well, 

The shades of evening welcome dear, 
For 'tis to him a cordial drink 

That makes his weary mind more clear 
All wearied by fatigueing toil, 

He sleeps the half of life away, 
The Fates to watch him while he sleeps 

With Night the mother of the day. 

The watchman then with lonely step, 

About the city takes his beat 
To see if all, in trust, are well, 

The plans of midnight thieves defeat ; 
The traveler, too, all sore and lame, 

Comes jogging to some wayside inn 
To wait the coming of the morn 

That brings again a world of din. 

The noisy world so full of life 
Is sure to feel the magic hand, 



That brings the quietude of night 

When Darkness breaks her iron band; 

"lis then all life seem hushed and still, 
Save now and then a bird of night 

Which sings its song in happy tune 
When man is in his dream-land flight. 

The waters, too, seem prone t«» feel 

The power of Night's unchanging will, 
Which makes, in truth, with music sweet 

The soul of Nature's love to thrill : 
The brooks in melody so sweet 

Go babbling on in measured rhyme 
To join the music of the spheres 

Which make a universal chime. 

Perturbing Care with pallid brow 

Does then her hold on man release, 
And humbly folds her hands to give 

Her place to sweet and quiet Peace : 
All men alike, the sage and dolt, 

The high and low, unite in sleep, 
Awhile to meet on equal ground 

When Night shall cast her shadows deep. 

Alas ! 'tis said there is a night, 

A long, long night of peaceful rest, 
When all shall sleep till dawn of day, 

Laid low in Earth's untroubled breast ; 
There all shall rest in one broad couch. 

The gay and sad in robes of white, 
An unknown time of silent sleep, 

Where reigns supreme eternal night. 



Most people speak of a present as if it were 
a space of time between two limits, but there is 
no present. We are living either in the past by 
memory, or in the future by anticipation. 



ere 



I would that I were young- again, 

As innocent and free, 
As when I left my childhood's home, 

The busy world to see. 

I would that I were hack again 

Upon the Sandy Float, 
A fishing for the speckled trout, 

Or sailing in my boat. 

I would that I with brother Charles 

Were in the forest old, 
Where he and T with trap and gun 

Sought out our game so bold. 

I would I were in that old shop 
Which stood across the way, 

With Ella and my brother Charles, 
Engaged in happy play. 

Oh! were I at the old school-house, 

As when I was a boy, 
With all my classmates as of old, 
Oh ! would n't it give me joy. 

Oh ! were I at my mother's side. 

My father sitting near. 
With sisters and my brothers, too, 

And all I love so dear. 

Oh! could I but turn back the wheels 
Of Time's swift rushing car, 

I'd roll me back to childhood's days 
From whence I've roamed so far. 

Oh ! let the sweetest memories cling 
Around my childhood's home, 

Since I cannot the wheels turn back, 
I am content to roam. 



y 



Long time ago I launched my ship 

To send across the sea ; 
The winds were fair, and neap the tide. 

My friends stood on the quay. 

So calm and gentle was the sea. 

Serene the sky above, 
My ship without a tremor moved 

As gentle as a dove. 

Three cheers we gave her as she sailed 

Out towards the open sea; 
1 prayed she'd safely ride the storms, 

And then return to me. 

With anxious hearts we watched the ship 

Until she seemed to he 
A single speck, she was so far 

Away into the sea 

Forebodings filled my heart with fear; 

This question came to me : 
Oh! would my ship securely ride 

Forever on the *ea? 

Oh! would the ocean e'er be calm ; 

Its waves unruffled be 
As they are now, when first my ship 

Set sail upon the sen ? 

Would Jove send forth his dire command 

To set the tempests freer 
Would Neptune ever rise and lash 
To foam the raging sear 

Alas! for even as we watched 

That disappearing speck, 
The winds began to blow, and roll 

The waves upon the deck. 



The heavens now were dark with clouds, 
The bright clouds disappeared ; 

The billows leaped upon the shore, 
A wreck was what I feared. 

Amidst the dimness, now and then, 

We saw the tossing sail 
Way out at sea upon the wave, 

A* battling in the gale. 

The storm had ceased, the sun came out, 

We looked out on the sea ; 
No ship was there to greet our eyes, 

No ship there seemed to be. 

No broken spars were thrown ashore, 
No wreck there seemed to be ; 

Me-thought, " my ship is safe, unharmed, 
She still sails on the sea." 

I'd faith my ship had bravely rode 

This raging storm at sea ; 
Me-thought, she'd surely cross the wave, 

And then return to me. 

My ship is still upon the sea, 

Just where I cannot tell ; 
But this I firmly feel assured : 

She'll ride the billows well. 

I've seen her once securely ride 

Upon an angry sea, 
And as my Father's at the helm, 

He'll guide my ship for me. 

I'm waiting now for tidings from 

My ship I sent away; 
I've faith she'll come to me again 

From off the ocean's spray. 



Hope is the only anchor that gives to life its 



(( 



Old Blue." 



Grand eminence blue, high-raised above 
Thy brother hills, whose summit, lirst 
Of 'all New England's lofty mounds, 
By sailors off the coast are seen! 
For centuries, on thy crest of steel 
The beating storms of time have raged, 
And from great -love's unerring hand, 
With thundering crash, the swiftest bolts 
Upon thy rugged side have fell, 
And strown thy form with shattered tree- 

For ages have the trees and moss 
From tiny seeds sprung up, and grown 
Where'er they could among the rocks. 
And yet they died; and others still 
Have grown, and like the rest have died. 

The eyes of babes, of youth, of men, 
That were accustomed once to view 
Thy stately form thick-wrapped in snow. 
In winter time, or when the frosts 
Were gone, have looked upon thy robe 
Of green, transformed to heavenly blue, 
Or saw thy peak deep-capped with cloud.- 
And fog foretelling storms — all these, 
And others, too, long sightless now, 
Are closed to sleep the sleep of death. 

The thousand feet of beast and man. 
Which, all adown the stream of time, 
Have on thy lofty summit stood, 
Stand there no more for they are dead. 
But thou, proud sentinal, unharmed, 
Unchanged, as strong, as firm, as high. 
As blue, as great, as old, as grand. 
As when thy noble form was made, 
Remain, with peak up-pointed high. 
To ffuide us to a better life. 



Hear ai)d Heed, 



listen, brother! listen, sister! 

Hear you not a tender word, 
Deep down in your manly bosom, 

Calling you to serve your Lord? 

Very broad and strong your shoulders, 
Proud and noble is your form ; 

Like the ancient ship of Noah, 
You can breast the wildest storm. 

Round about the unsuspecting 
Lay encamped the wily foe, 

Waiting there to plunge their victims 
Into depths of deepest woe. 

Then my brave and fearless brothers. 
And my sisters kind and true, 

Heed the heavenly admonition ; 
Do the work God has for you. 

Falter not in honest battle. 
For the One who rules the storm, 

And takes note of little sparrows, 
Will not let vou suffer harm. 



A Sfysll. 



High up the mountain cased in rocky cell, 
I found a shell, 

A Spirifer of old Jurasic time, 
Composed of lime. 



r broke his bonds and thought, was over he 

Before as fiery 

" How came you here?" at length I asked the shell, 
" 'Tis hard to tell." 

" But all the facts I'll try to give to you. 
For they are true." 

" My native home before, when I was free, 
Was in the sea." 

"I've been imprisoned here live million years 
It now appears." 

"Long years ago there was a mighty sea, 
When I was free." 

"No being like yourself, of stature grand, 
Lived in the land." 

" But there was One who ruled o'er everything, 
A mighty King." 

" One day I nearer went than e'er before 
Upon the shore." 

" The waters sank away, my native sea 
Forsaking me." 

" Then on my burning sides great heat did pour, 
Ne'er felt before/' 

" I tried with all my might to turn around, 
But I was bound." 

" And so was doomed, I know not why, to dwell 
In prison cell." 

" I'm bound no more, but yet I am not free, 
I'm lone you see." 

" My race have long ago the portals passed, 
I am the last." 



" I could not live again down in the sea, 
"Tis not for me." 

" I'll finish now my clays in this strange clime, 
In my good time,'' 

I bade him speed; but sure it was, me-thought, 
A lesson taught. 

For like the shell mankind the wide world round 
In cells are bound. 



A fleeting cloud, a passing thought, 

A weary soul a moment fraught, 

A morning breeze, a noonday sun, 

A twilight's glow, and the journey's done 



We write our names in albums, 
We trace them in the sand, 

We carve them on the mountain rocks 
As high up as we can. 

But are they in God's Album, 
Traced by the Savior's hand? 

If not, then have them there 
As quickly as you can. 



We often hear people say, " I w T ould do differ- 
ently, if I could have the same chance again.'' 
But the truth is they would not, for they would 
be under the same circumstances ; consequently 
they would do the same thing. Men do not 
make circumstances ; but on the other hand, 
circumstances governs the acts of men. 



Oij Leaving College. 



Alas ! too soon, fast flying 'rime 

Comes knocking at my door, 
To bid me go from this dear place, 

Where I shall dwell no more. 

My dear old room at fifty-nine, 
Four years you've sheltered me, 

And from your walls have echoed forth 
Our College songs so free. 

Each separate voice, and laughter too. 

And lingering thoughts of joy. 
Are sacred gems in memory stored 

That time can ne'er destroy. 

Eaeh sacred spot more saered's been 

With each succeeding year. 
And kindly faces of dear friends, 

More kindly seem and dear. 

"Tis hard to break the knotted threads. 

Fast woven round my heart; 
But Time supreme in his commands 

Says, " Break the threads apart." 

" Into the mystic future go, 
Carve out your name in gold ; 

But ne'er forget the former days, 
And friends you knew of old." 

"The mystic future," ah! those words 

Are full of awe and dread; 
Who knows who of our little band 

Will first lie with the dead. 

What transformations will be wrought 

By sordid Care and Strife, 
What victories Avon, or battles lost. 

In such a mystic life. 



But why should I attempt to look 

Beyond so dark a veil ? 
I ne'er shall know the sea of life 

Till on the sea I sail. 

We ne'er shall meet all here again 

Our lessons to recite ; 
A long vacation we shall have 

Before we shall unite. 

Adieu! then, friends and classmates dear 

The chapel and the hell, 
The hall, the campus and my room, 

I bid you all farewell. 



eet 



Meet me when the sun goes down, 
When it sinks behind the hill, 

Just when Darkness dons her gown, 
Just as day grows calm and still. 

Meet me where the brooklets flow, 
Moving slowly to the seas, 

When the nickering sunbeams throw 
Eays of light among the trees. 

Meet me 'neath the verdant pine, 
When the sky is clear above, 

Where you put your hand in mine, 
And I told you of my love. 

Meet me when the vesper bells 
Calls us from our worldly care, 

When our hearts with rapture swells 
To pour forth our love in prayer. 



Meet me when my eyes grow dim, 
WTien the eve of life draws near, 
Jusl when Death with visage grim 

Takes his place beside me here. 

Meet me in that happy land, 
When the toils of life are o'er, 

Where the blest of God shall stand 
By His side for evermore. 



forget. 



Forget the past! forget the past ! 

Why such a question strange and vast, 
Since "with life's mystic warp is wed, 

By iron hands, an iron thread ? 

When beasts shall take man's honored place 
And birds become a groveling race, 

When spots on Afric's pards are changed, 
And civic races are estranged, 

When trees their rootlets upward throw, 
Their branches pierce the mould below. 

When loftiest boreal glaciers melt, 
And waves congeal in Torrid belt, 

When turbid streams refuse to flow 
From wooded heights to vales below, 

And mountains old up-lifted high 
Prone with the level ocean lie, 

When hurrying seasons cease their round. 

The wicked with the saints be found, 
The mind of man, the soul of God, 

Resolve to dust, become a clod. 



When children love no more to play, 
And birds to sing their tuneful lay, 

When love dies out and hate is cold, 
And men shall never more grow old, 

When moons and planets shall decay, 
The sun be quenched, seas dry away, 

Thus changing all to blackest night,— 
Forget the past? perhaps I might. 



:o: 

I am on the troubled waters 

Floating ever in the breeze, 
Towards a harbor just before me, 

Where I'll rest from stormy seas. 

I am floating, ever floating, 

On the silvery sea of life, 
And my shallop bears right onward 

Through the shoals of change and strife. 

I've not strength of mind or muscle, 
Here, to stay my bounding barque ; 

Other powers than mine still urge me 
Through life's mystic waters dark. 

All before, and all around me, 

Lie the blue and restless seas, 
On whose bosom I am floating, 



Where's the limit of my ocean? 

Where's the end of floating here? 
Compassed thus by flowing billows, 

I've not strength my craft to steer, 



since I'm launched upon the waters, 

This is all that I can <!<» : 
Let the Hand thai rules the ocean 

Guide and bear ine safely through. 

So, I'll reach, my Pilot willing, 
Some great harbor made for trie, 

When I'm through with floating, floatinj 
On the ever greater sea. 



Wljeq Wq Played. 



'Twas clown by the river long ago, 

With the stones and the sand for our toys, 

That we played, my dear brother and I, 
When 'twas right to be bare-footed boys. 

We would hunt for the pretty white stones, 
For the red, and the green, and the blue, 

For the flat, and the long, and the round. 
Till the day became damp with the dew. 

We would make the sparks fly with the white. 

As we struck them together in great pride : 
We would skip on the water the flat, 

And then watch till they readied the other side 

We would throw scaleing stones in the air, 
Just to hear them come back with a "chuck," 

And with joy we would watch the rolling waves 
That arose fiom the place where they struck. 

We would wade in the water all about, 

With our pants rolled up high to our knees, 

Just a playing, as boys often play. 
We were sailors a sailing the seas. 



Oh ! 'tis sweet to recall those bright days. 

When my brother and I on the strand, 
By the side of that clear crystal stream, 

Played and burrowed like worms in the sand. 



Grand old ocean, gray with motion, 
Tell me won't you what you say, 

When you tumble, roll and rumble 
Through the years of endless day? 

Now the firmer grow T s the murmur 
Of thy restless, ceaseless waves ; 

Now they thicken, billows quicken 
Till they charge the shore like braves. 

Now they plunder, drawing under 

Every object they can keep, 
There to slumber, a countless number, 

In the bosom of the deep. 

Now in calmness, seeming harmless, 

Grow the waters of the sea ; 
But they never whatsoever, 

Make their language known to me. 

Yet with power through each hour, 
Keep they marked the bounds of man, 

Where no mansion firm with stanchion 
Can be built by mortal plan. 

The creations of all nations 
Would not fill the endless sea ; 

Nor the powers of a state like ours 
Set the surging billows free. 



Sacred Ocean! in devotion 

We will reverence thy domains; 

For thy powers arc more than ours, 
And the Godly Neptune reigns. 

Last forever! desist never! 

In derision roll thou on ! 
Tell thy story when all are hoary, 

When the last from earth have gone 



fante 



What is fame, and what is glory? 

What is it a name to find 
That shall live in future story, 

In the labyrinth of time? 

Is it reputation only 

That shall urge the spirit on 
To perform deeds great and nohle 

That shall live when we are gone. 

Are the numbers few or many 
AVho have reached the temple Fame' 

Will they always live in glory 
AVho have here a transient name? 

Will the name cut deep in marble 
Vanish from the sight of man, 

In the long eternal ages, 

In the world's progressive van ? 

Is it worth the while to struggle 
To ascend Fame's ladder high? 

To exert our sluggish natures 
For a prize we cannot buy? 



Is fame permanent or fleeting? 

Will it last till set of sun?" 
Will it live through endless ages 

Till all Nature's work is done? 

Ah! real glory, fame immortal, 
Is not gained for its own sake; 

"Tis obtained by helping others 
For a nobler stand to take. 

Those who have diviner natures, 

And the attributes of God, 
Tney may truly be called famous 

If they've passed the chastening rod. 

Many are the rich and wise men, 
But the famous they are few 

Who have reached true fame immortal 
Or a birth from God anew. 

True, the names engraved on marble, 
Like the breeze of early day, 

Will remain there for a moment, 
Then will quickly pass away. 

But the name of greatest moment, 
Written in the " Book of Life. " 

Never will grow dim or tarnished, 

For 'twill live through fame most rife. 

Ah ! 'tis truly worth the striving 

To possess a worthy name, 
For to have eternal being, 

That is glory ; that is fame. 



Our names inscribed in albums for friends to look upon 
Will last but for a moment and then they will be gone ; 
"Tis better far to have them engraved within God's book, 
Upon whose spotless pages our friends may ever look. 



Parting Ode 



Four years have passed since first OUl' class 

Walked up the College stairs, 
While soft tones fell from th' College bell, 

Calling to morning prayers. 
Alas ! not all to the roll call 

.Respond who then said, u here." 
Some turned aside, and one has died, 

Though still to memory dear. 

Chorus. 

Classmates dear, to-day we part. 
So, farewell! farewell! farewell ! 

Classmates dear, to-day we part, 
So, farewell! farewell! farewell! 

No more we meet, no more we greet 

In yonder classic hall ; 
For now dear friends, our school life ends, 

And sterner duties call. 
We sing to-day our parting lay, 

The last that we shall sing ; 
Sad tears may start that we must part, 

Yet memory '11 fonder cling. 

Chorus — Classmates, etc. 

In life's wide field, with ardent zeal, 

May Gnomen erhon be 
A motto true to " eighty-two," 

To our success, a key. 
May God's kind care when all is fair ; 

When threatening skies are brass, 
Protect us each till Heaven we reach, 

A reunited class. 

Chorus— Classmates, etc. 



The cold and wintry days have passed, 
The Spring has come with joy at last'; 
And everything' is full of fun 
To think that Spring has realy come. 

The hills and meads are clothed in green. 

The mountain tops can now he seen ; 
The sparkling rivers are rushing on 
To reach the ocean far beyond. 

The trees are putting forth their leaves, 
The flowers, too, their buds upheave, 
And far away as one can see 
No grander sight can ever be. 

The birds are frolicking in mirth, 
And hop about upon the earth ; 
And as you make your way along 
You "11 hear them sing in merry song. 

The squirrel, too, is full of glee, 
He gaily skips from tree to tree, 
And seems to join the birds in song, 
And jumps about the whole day long. 

The fishes, also, in the brook 
Skim about with a side-long look, 
As if to say, if you are nigh, 
"You can't catch me if you try.' 7 

The farmer sows and plants his grain,. 
And trys with all his might and main 

To raise enough for winter's store, 

And if he can a little more. 

A happy time 'twould be with some 
If winter days would never come ; 
But 'twill always be the same, 
For Spring will go and come again. 



eif. 



My kitten, she is spotted, 

A pretty little thing ; 
She looks just like a rabbit, 

All ready for a spring. 

My kitten, she's a small thing, 

The smallest you ever see ; 
No one shall have my kitten, 

For she belongs to me. 

My kitten plays with everything 

She finds about the house, 
And runs beneath the table 

As if she saw a mouse. 

My kitten gets awful tired 

A playing with her tail, 
And when she does get tired 

She runs for the milk pail. 

My kitten makes a funny noise, 

I call it singing songs ; 
But she wont sing to you 

If you strike her with the tongs. 

My kitten climbs on backs of chairs 
And falls and almost breaks her head, 

And sometimes when I pick her up, 
You'd think her almost dead. 

My kitten will sometime grow up 

To be a great big cat, 
Big enough I should think 

To catch an ugly rat. 

My kitten's name is " Tiny" 
Her uncle's name is "Ned," 

My kitten's getting tired now, 
So I'll put her in her bed. 



Tell me, if you can, mother, 
Where do the angels dwell, 

And why they are so pure, 
Come, mother, can't you tell? 

I've heard folks tell of angels, 
How they dressed in white; 

It would make me wild, mother, 
To see so grand a sight. 

I've heard they live in Heaven ; 

But, mother, where is that place ? 
E never saw it did I, 

Unless 'twas in your face? 

I thought ,twas in the sky, mother, 
But now could one get up there? 

He cannot walk on nothing, 
Eight straight through the air. 

Oh ! I forgot, dear mother, 
We'll have wings as angels do ; 

But where we shall get them, mother, 
That's something I don't know. 

And, mother, what do they mean 
When they talk of the other side, 

That all will be well with us 
When we've sailed the golden tide? 

What do they mean when they tell 

Of a river wide and dark, 
Is it a river we must cross, 

In a fairy golden barque? 

And, mother, if each one goes alone 

As they say they do, 
Who will row the boat, 

And guide us safely through? 



And when we reach the other side, 
And stand upon the shining sand. 

Who will be the first to conic 
And take us gently by the hand? 

Shall we know as we are known 
All our friends who went before? 

Will they know as they are known, 
When we've reached the other shore' 

And when we all shall meet as friends. 

Shall we ever part again'? 
Shall we live in bliss forever," 

And sing aloud the heavenly strain ? 

And shall we live there with Jesus 
And never more know pain, 

All through the eternal ages, 
Through God's eternal reign? 



Mlec 



:o:- 



Come back, sweet youth, come back ! 

Why tarry thou so long! 
You told me when you went away 



But many years have now gone by, 
Iv'e looked for you in vain. 

And Iv'e given up the thought 
Of ever seeing you again. 

Vain hope ! delusion then to think 
That you could tell the trouth 

When you whispered in my ear, 
Saying you'd come foresooth. 



If you'd remained here all these years,, 
I'd never thought those thoughts ; 

I'd never done those evil deeds ; 
Fd never made those blots. 

What shall I do all dead in sin, 
Call on youth who's fleeting fast away V 

That'll not do at all I think, 
Better call on God and pray. 

If I do that will it suffice? 

Can I be as pure as when in youth? 
Can I be as innocent and free ; 

And will no stain show forth? 

The Bible says, " Wash and be clean; 

And thy stains will be lost in the flood. 
Jesus will cleanse from all sin, 

If you but wash in his blood." 

But wont there be vacant places, 
Years of blackness, a dark chaos? 

And if I cannot live my life over, 
How can I make up for the loss? 

There will always be dark places 
In the lives of the very best men, 

For they often say they would change it, 
Could they live their life over again. 

A pebble thrown into the ocean 
Shows effect in the waves it makes, 

And each wave keeps rolling forever, 
As its journey onward it takes. 

A word breathed forth on the air 
Sets in motion a series of rings, 

Which continue to vibrate forever, 
Like sounds on a myriad of wings. 

Then you must watch and be careful 
That no word goes forth on the air 

Which would grate on the ear of the. just, 
Or grieve one innocent and fair. 



The present's the time to look out Cor, 
The future we've naught to do with, 

The future that now is will be present, 
The present, the past while we live, 

Then fear no more for there's light; 

Watch, pluck out the evil when found, 
Remember the promise that's given, 

Where it says, God giveth a crown. 



If a wanderer you should meet, 

And for help to you he cried, 
Would you help him on his way, 

And consent to he his guide? 

If the lame should slip and fall, 

And be unable to rise again, 
Would you hurry to the rescue, 

And help him on his feet again? 

If the poor with thirst and hunger 

Should apply to you for aid, 
W T ould you turn your back against him 

When your ''thousands" you have mad. 

If the stranger by the wayside, 
Should fall sick upon his way, 

Would you help him to recover, 
And also to pursue his way? 

If your neighbor is in trouble, 
And his empty purse might till, 

Would you help him on in gladness, 
Or would you push him down the bill.' 

If any of your companions 

Should to you an injury do, 
Would you likewise do them 

As you'd have them do to you? 



Ivy Ode, 



Oh, Ivy! dear Ivy! we sing of thy worth, 
For thou art the fairest of all the green earth. 
To thee our hearts cling while they fondly unite. 
A bond of sweet friendship that never can blight. 
And as we assemble to plant the green vine, 
May love for each other with freshness intwine. 

Chorus : 

Oh, Ivy Vine! sweet Ivy Vine! 
Let thy dear tendrils round ue twine; 
And may we find in love divine 
A welcome for the Ivy Vine. 

And may thou be truly a beacon of light, 
To guard us in sacrching for truth and the right. 
Be thou a glad token of victories won, 
Memorial bright of our duties well done. 
May failures be less in the oncoming strife, 
Our victories greater in battles of life. 

Chorus : — Oh, Ivy vine ! etc. 

And as thy strong branches point up to the skies, 
We'll nobly endeavor in honor to rise. 
When far in the future we think of the past, 
Well think of the Ivy whose mem'ry shall last. 
And when we shall change the old faces for new 
We'll never forget those of Hates Eighty-two. 



Ma-lja, Ha fya 



We've said gOOd-by to sadness, 
And now we sing in gladness ; 
For he is tree and gay 
Who drives dull cares away. 

Chorus : 

Ha-ha, ha-ha, ha-ha, ha-ha, 
We're jolly now and free: 

Ha-ha, ha-ha, ha-ha. ha-ha, 
Who would'nt students he ! 

We'll sing our songs together, 
In every kind of weather, 
While rambling on the street, 
With hat and cane complete. 

Chorus: — Ha-ha, etc. 

Engaged in happy singing, 
We'll set the welkin ringing; 
For nothing is more fair 
Than music in the air. 



Everything tends towards equality : the sea 
is graduately being filled from the mountains. 
and in progress of time the highest hill will find 
its way to the deepest ocean. 



I wish I were a sailor, 

The captain of a ship, 
With a hundred men beneath me, 

With courage true, and grit, 
I would visit foreign countries, 

And try the sailors' mode, 
To see all the sights I could, 

By sailing round the globe. 

I wish T were an officer, 

The leader of a throng, 
T would find the difference 

Between the right and wrong. 
I wauld scatter the enemy 

To the left and to the right, 
And make them all surrender, 

Or drive them from my sight. 



I wish I w r ere an engineer, 

Upon a railroad train, 
I'd stop at every station, 

And then speed on again. 
Vd peril the life of no one 

By running oft* the tracks, 
I would guide them safely through, 

And meet with no mishaps. 



I wish I were an aronout, 

And owned a big baloon, 
I'd visit every planet, 

And light upon the moon. 
I would run long races 

With the lark and the eagle, 
And when I reached the earth again, 

I'd blow a silver bugle. 



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